Here Dazee shares her amazing Journey into her Midlife Crisis and getting her ink:

"Three years ago I turned 50.

I wasn't afraid to turn 50. I was happy. My kids threw me a surprise birthday party. And the biggest surprise was that they gave me a trip for 2 to San Francisco. Have I mentioned, I love my kids.

After my 51st birthday, I got the huge yearning to get a tattoo. Oh yeah, 51 getting my very first tattoo. Goes back to the "I'm a grown woman now, I'm doing what I want, not what my parents want me to do, not what my husband wants me to do". So I grabbed my friend Lizzie (Lizzie is now married to my son) and we went to the tattoo parlor that she had used before. Funny how a 20 year old girl could make me brave.

I walked bravely into the place and showed them the picture I had found that I wanted. Here is what it turned out to be. A daisy flower vine. From the minute I got it, I loved it. I felt so free and alive.

They told me, once you get one, you'll get the craving for another. Were they ever right. I thought and thought. What could I do. Ta-da, I decided to get a little butterfly for each of my grandkids. That way, as I get more grandkids, it would give me the excuse to get another tattoo. Looked up pictures of butterflies and went back. Told them I wanted them around the flower vine.

I was again, overcome with extreme happiness, when I saw my grandkids. The only bad thing was, it was the dead of winter. I had to wear long pants. I couldn't show my legs. This was going to be the longest winter ever!!!!

Made it through Thanksgiving, Christmas and New years. Uh oh, I'm getting the urge, the urge to splurge. I need another tattoo. And why should I just celebrate my grandkids. I needed to get one to celebrate my own children. Who, by the way, loved that I got the first ones. They were proud of me, of me stepping out and being my own person.

So I called them all, asked them what they thought of me getting a butterfly for them. They said it would be cool. I let them pick out the color they wanted to be, and the butterfly they wanted. Went back to my favorite place and gave them the pictures, told them which one was supposed to be which color and to do what they thought would look the best.

My daughter picked out the red butterfly. My oldest son picked out blue, and my youngest the green. I love how Amanda (my tattoo artist) put them as siblings united. And finally, the weather got nice enough that I could wear my capris and see them whenever I wanted. (please insert kid tattoo here)

Doesn't sound like too scary of a midlife crisis does it?

The thing is, I was raised to not deface my body. Not to do anything that would upset the parents. But, I became independent at the age of 51. Even tho, to this day, I still haven't told my parents that I got them. I try not to wear anything around them that they will see them. I hate confrontation. I don't want to hear the disgust and shame in their voice. My siblings, another story. Most of them know about them and have seen them. And say they are supportive.

I feel bad that I didn't start doing things for myself way before 51. I hate that until then, I always did things that I perceived would not rock the boat. That would not upset my parents, other than marrying a person that wasn't of my faith. That was upsetting to them. And from the day I married him 31 years ago, I've tried to do everything else that wouldn't upset them.

The one thing it did to me, was show me that I would never ever make my children feel like what they did was the end of the world. I know that we all make mistakes in life, and if we don't have a soft place to fall, we feel very alone.

And yes, I'm still with the same man I married against my parents wishes and I love him to the ends of my soul. I started feeling bad that I didn't have one for my hubby, so in June of this year, I went in and got one for him. Again, he didn't know. I wanted a really colorful one. And I also wanted his initials incorporated in it somehow.

Amanda did a perfect butterfly for me. Most the time people don't even realize that his initials are at the bottom. He loved it from the moment I got it.

My last tattoo was only a month ago. I feel like my life is all about comforting people. For some reason, they come to me with things that I would never in my mind tell anyone else. I always loved the picture of the 2 baby tigers but never "had a reason" to get it. Then my best friend and cousin came to me about her husband, and I have been comforting her. This is that tattoo. I got them in purple because it is my favorite color.

I also have to give a big shout out to my daughter, who has shown me that it's ok to be who I am. Who loves me even tho we went through a rough time, but who will always be my best friend. And to my 2 sons who have always been there for me, who don't laugh too hard at me when I cry during a sad commercial, and laugh at me often.

So if getting a tattoo is the worst thing I could have done with my midlife crisis, then so be it.

A young couple were delighted to purchase the old-fashioned house in the Stuyvesant Square section of Philadelphia. They moved into their dream home in the winter of 1889, bringing their five year old daughter with them.

There was a lot of refurbishing to do, so the little girl tended to go up to the attic to play while her parents were occupied with the house. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, because the previous owners had converted the attic into a playroom. It even had a fireplace at one point, but it was currently boarded up.

After a couple of weeks of hard work, the downstairs rooms were finished. The mother, realising that she had been neglecting their daughter, attempted to try and spend more time with her now, but the little girl seemed distracted. She kept stealing back up to the attic alone to play.

Exasperated, and perhaps a little hurt the the child was not being responsive to her attentions, the mother finally asked, "What's so interesting up there in that stuffy room?"

"It's the little boy with the shiny buttons," the child replied. "He's so much fun to play with!"

"What little boy?" the mother demanded, wondering if a servant child had stowed away in the room. She went to investigate, but found the room empty.

Certain that her daughter was just being contrary, she urged her husband to discipline the child. At her father's stern voice the little girl became hysterical. She kept repeating that there was a little boy and he wore a blue jacket with lots of shiny buttons on it. As her father listened, he became more and more curious. Formerly a s eaman, he realized his daughter was describing a child's sailor suit, complete with the brass buttons.

The girl's father made some inquires about the Jensons, the family that lived in the house before them. He learned that they had come from England, bringing their children with them, two boys and a girl. The youngest child, a boy, was born retarded. The neighbors described the youngest boy as a sweet innocent child, but added that Mr. Jenson was ashamed of him and tried to prevent him from being seen outdoors.

According to the boy's parents, the neighbours continued, the young boy would often sneak out to go down to the river. The story goes on to say that one day he fell in and drowned. His body was never recovered, but his cap had been found floating in the river. Shortly after the disappearance, the Jensons put the house up for sale and, leaving Philadelphia, dropped out of sight.

The former seaman's suspicions were now thoroughly aroused. He accompanied his little daughter to the attic and asked her to show him where the little boy came from. She pointed to the boarded up fireplace. Her father called in workers to open it and then to remove the mortar that cemented up a cavity beside the chimney.

As the mortar was chipped away, the corpse of a small boy was revealed. He was clothed in a little blue sailor jacket with four rows of brass buttons down the front. Further examination revealed that the back of the child's head had been crushed by a violent blow.

Fuck You to the South Africa electrical thunder and lightning storms that keep my sobbing children clinging to me like wee leeches﻿ when the forked lighning shoots across the sky and the cloud bang together. My poor wee buttons are terrified and then my bed has to be shared. Four bodies in a double bed is not a laughing matter...

Fuck you to my brand new expensive mascara that I can't fucking wear because it causes my eyes to burn like all hell shite fire, itch like an Arab's sand mite-infested crotch and ooze attractive yellow puss. So much for expensive is the best. Humph!

Fuck you to my bastard shit-face laptop that kept crashing this week and giving me fucking weird html errors on my blog. Geezo, I tried over a dozen times to get my Bloggers Ink Challenge posted - and on top of that - I still managed to royally fuck it up. My poor Boerewors had to spend hours reloading everything just so that I could make Half-Nekkid Thursday aka HNT in time. So a huge THANK YOU to My Boerewors for making it happen and having the patience to put up with my constant slamming of the keyboard (sometimes it does work - most times it doesn't).

Fuck you to conspiracy theories...there are many things bubbling under the surface at the moment. All to be revealed soon (if I'm not bound by a Confidentiality Agreement, that is)

Many people visit my pages... print several coloring pages and then staple them together to make a coloring book. I know of granparents making books for their grandkids, of a teacher putting one together for one of her hospitalised students, I know of parents putting together coloring books this way to give out as party favors and so on.

With this in mind I thought I'd make a unisex coloring book front cover that you can print for your personalised coloring book.

Add to it the name of the recipient and your name as the kind person who put it together. The good thing about it is that this front cover in itself can be colored in.

Many people visit my pages... print several coloring pages and then staple them together to make a coloring book.

Grandparents make coloring books for their grandkids, teachers put some together as prizes for their students and I know of parents putting together coloring books to give out as party favors or to have around the house at Thanksgiving or Christmas time and so on.

With this in mind I thought I'd make a unisex coloring book front cover that you can print for your personalised coloring book.

Add to it the name of the recipient and your name as the kind person who put it together. The good thing about it is that this front cover in itself can be colored in.

Many people visit my pages... print several coloring pages and then staple them together to make a coloring book. I know of granparents making books for their grandkids, of a teacher putting one together for one of her hospitalised students, I know of parents putting together coloring books this way to give out as party favors and so on.

With this in mind I thought I'd make a printable unisex coloring book front cover that you can print for your personalised coloring book.

Add to it the name of the recipient and your name as the kind person who put it together. The good thing about it is that this front cover in itself can be colored in.